


Köstlich

by SilverServerError



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: A snippet of a scene, Dom Brian, M/M, Some blood. Just like... A LITTLE bit of blood., resolution and aftercare off screen, they’re in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 16:29:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15822675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverServerError/pseuds/SilverServerError
Summary: Brian’s thighs are at their most irresistible when he’s not allowed to touch them.





	Köstlich

Brian’s thighs are at their most irresistible when he’s not allowed to touch them.

“Everyzing alright, dear?”  
  
“Mmmmmrph!”  

“Your diction is terrible with zat gag in your mouth.”

Brad forces himself to be quiet, if only so he can better listen to the clicks as Brian’s heels hit the floor. Tak. Tak. Tak… His inner thighs brushing together, white, thigh high stockings almost glowing against purple-gray skin. He knows what sinking his claws into that flesh feels like. It’s times like these that he most wants to tear Brian apart.

Hence the bonds, both rope and arcane, keeping his straining hands back.  
  
While the gag is… the gag is just for fun. Brian’s fun, specifically.

(“You talk too much.”) 

When they turn off the lights like this, Brad’s Darkvision takes over. Brian’s pink eyes and the stark white teeth and hair stand out so brightly. It’s almost all he can see. It’s impossible to be distracted. A part of him is reading that expression and pleased to know how much Brian is enjoying this. But most of his thoughts are consumed with all the little cues… Being tied down on his back. The slow predatory way Brian approaches. Feeling exposed and defenseless and so achingly hard. All the little cues that send his pulse racing and ready his body for a fight.

The bed shifts as it takes Brian’s weight, at once making everything better and so much, much worse.  
  
“Mmmm!”

“Shhh...”

As Brian shifts- crawls up his legs, Brad reflects for the thousandth time just how much his long, sharp body moves like a spider. He operates at three speeds: perfectly still, entirely too slowly, and then, suddenly, too fast to see. Alien sometimes. Otherworldly. Eldritch. Calculating and precise as narrow points of contact manage to make such a light creature painful as he braces a hand on his stomach and crawls over Brad’s hips. A low and raw whine makes its muffled way past the gag as his cock brushes against warm skin and the subtle tease of soft fishnet.

“Oh, Bradson…” Brian moans softly, lithe fingers stroking him lightly, a single wet fingertip teasing a slow circle around his tip. “Sometimes I forget how big you are.” With a sigh, he guides Brad inside, then slowly, tortuously slowly, he begins the process of taking him deeper.

This is the part where Brad likes to talk to Brian. Offer encouragement and praise as his elf lets his head fall back. He likes to watch his shifting ribs as he breathes through the stretch. He likes to touch Brian. Support an arching back.

Rub his thighs.

Instead he’s a straining mess of flexed muscle and muffled growls.

“Baby,” Brian cooes, voice edged with pleasure as he keeps rocking his hips, “I can’t understand you.” He leans forward, squeezing Brad’s cock tight, then plants a chaste kiss against the black rubber clenched between teeth and tusks. “You’re going to have to speak up.”

The strain… The want and need and frustration boil ever closer to taking complete control as Brian’s finger slowly wipes the drool from his cheek. They lock eyes, and Brian runs his tongue over a fang. 

Brad feels a pulse of arousal bring him dangerously close, throbbing inside the tight heat of Brian. His thighs flex. His breath catches. And instantly there are claws threatening his windpipe.

“No!” a harsh voice commands. It makes it worse. Brad’s toes curl. “You come if I say you can come.” Two fingers shove up into the soft place under his jaw, forcing his head back. For a moment he chokes, unprepared for the sudden force and awkward position, then he manages to cough into the gag enough to clear his throat and take some desperate breaths through his nose. As soon as he can tell he’s not about to die, he has to devote every ounce of will to not coming to the harsh voice and rough treatment.

He whines with effort and frustration as the claws shift again, grabbing his jaw and forcing his head to the side. He feels it as Brian covers him, hair falling like a curtain and teeth (the blunt ones, thankfully) sinking into the lobe of his ear as he hisses, “And I don’t zink you get to tonight.”

Brad cries out in frustration, hips shoving upward into Brian and head wrenching free, instantly earning him a hard slap across the cheek.

“Bradson!” Brian all but shrieks, hand going to the release of the gag and tearing it away. “You will apologize!”

Brad looks up at Brian, mouth sore and cheek hot. Pulse racing and cock throbbing with need. Shaking with frustration. 

And he roars.

There’s no other word for the instinctual way he tries to dive forward, held back by the ropes. For the way his eyes burn and his teeth gnash. The threatening growl.

For a moment everything is still. They stare at each other in mutual shock. Waiting to see what will happen. 

Then the calculated chill in Brian’s expression turns to fury. Quick as an instant, his hands shoot out, one gripping Brad’s left tusk like a handle. The other sinks claws into the soft, defenseless gums below the inside of his front teeth and jerks down. Brad whimpers and before he knows what is happening, Brian’s face is no more than an inch from his own, eyes wide and fangs bared. Brian lets out his own roar. Higher, but louder. More aggressive. Dominant.

And Brad comes hard with a reflexive whimper that drags into a moan. For a precious few breaths, he floats on the submissive bliss of being overpowered so completely. Distantly he realizes he can taste the copper of his own blood and he does not care why. Then all too quickly the afterglow fades and drops him back into the silence of the room, interrupted only by his own labored breathing.

He awkwardly tries to swallow. There are still claws holding tender corners of his mouth hostage.   
  
“Did you just…?” Brian trails off, tone unreadable. 

Brad looks away at nothing, maintaining a last few threads of dignity as a deep olive flushes across his face. He refuses to make eye contact.  
  
“Oh, Brad. You’re going to pay for zat.”


End file.
